The Right Thing
by Kyriebess
Summary: Twoshot A scene at the end of a hunt where Sam and Dean both have to make some tough decisions that will affect each other's lives. Sometimes the right thing is not always the right thing. Hurt!Sam, minor hurt!Dean. The boys being professional plus angst
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters belong to the CW- I'm just borrowing. The plot and anyone else is mine.**

_So this one's short- it's another twoshot. I'll be honest, the second part's more exciting than the first, but we wouldn't have the second if the first didn't come before it and lead us there._

_This is supposed to be a little story that examines different decisions made during a hunt, what contributes to them, and what their outcomes are. It'll all tie together in the end. There are two main OCs in this that I needed to contrast Sam and Dean to make my point. I hate OCs in general, so I apologize for their prevalence, hopefully they're okay._

_Also! There's lots of hurt!Sam in here, accompanied by some lesser hurt!Dean._

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"Dean! Down!"

Dean dropped to the floor and cringed as he heard the shotgun blast sail over his head and into the kryepar standing two feet (0.6 m) away. Although unable to hurt the creature, the shotgun blast did give Dean enough time to roll onto his feet and begin running in the other direction of the warehouse.

Behind him, Dean heard another voice ring out. "What the hell you doin' Sammy?! Put that frickin' shotgun away! That ain't gonna do shit against these things."

Although unable to voice it during his high-speed game of chase, Dean agreed. The voice belonged to 'Desert'- a short, heavyset, latino man with a goatee, a bad attitude, a great sense of humor, and the probably the most extensive armament that Dean had ever seen.

"Des man, back the hell off the kid, Dean was in his shot!"

Dean rolled his eyes as he made a sharp turn to the right, narrowly avoiding the monsters claws. The second voice belonged to 'Willet'- an easy going guy, medium build, medium height, an even better sense of humor, and an abundance of knowledge pertaining to all things supernatural.

Desert and Willet had, on a few occasions, hunted with the great John Winchester, and although they were close to John's age, they even managed to teach the late hunter a few tricks of the trade. In this instance, however, they were hunting with his sons. Dean wouldn't have exactly called them family friends. He never really knew them well- just well enough to know that his father respected them, and as far as he could tell, they had no intention of hurting Sam.

Desert's voice rang out for a second time. "He ain't a baby, Will. Don't coddle the freakin' kid. Dean did his part. He set up the shot and dropped. He was out of the way. Sammy! Next time you take that shot!"

Another turn to the left and Dean found himself, once again, running toward his brother. This time he spoke. "You ready Sammy?"

Sam gave him a decisive shake of the head and readied the shotgun.

"Sam!"

Dean watched his brother flinch slightly as Desert yelled out his name. Then Sam shook his head again- Dean didn't really understand why, but whatever the reason, Sam wasn't going to use the taser.

The monster that they were hunting was a kryepar, a relative of the rawhead- although kryepars, in general, were more intelligent. This one in particular seemed to be giving the hunters an exceptionally hard time. Unfortunately, like the rawhead, the only way to kill a kryepar would be to electrocute it. Therefore, if this thing was going to die, Sam would need to use the taser.

Before he could argue the point further, Dean watched as Desert came up along Sam's side. His brow seemed to be creased in frustration and annoyance. The man spoke with a nod, "Fine. You won't kill the thing. I will. Dean drop!"

Without a second thought, Dean dropped to the floor expecting to hear the zap of the taser hitting its mark behind him. Instead, he heard a yell from Sam and saw the taser's discharge hit the ground ten feet to his left. What the hell? Before he could ponder the situation any further, Dean heard the creature bellow and felt the beast's claws slice open is back. From his right, a shotgun blast sounded and the kryepar was thrown off its prey. Then Dean was pulled into a standing position and forced to run.

Dean looked at the man who had helped him up. "What the hell-"

Willet shook his head and threw his shotgun over his shoulder. "No talk, just run."

Dean nodded and followed his rescuer, both of them ducking as they slid under a forklift. It made sense that Willet had used the shotgun, his taser had been the first to 'shoot and miss'. In the background, Dean could hear his brother and Desert fighting.

Sam's angry voice echoed through the nearly empty warehouse. "You could've killed him!"

"Excuse me? Let me tell you something Sammy…right now. You don't _ever_ knock one of my shots off-target again. You do and you'll be shitting blood for a month. You got that?"

"And let me tell _you_ something. _You _don't ever aim a weapon anywhere near my _brother_ again- or you won't be shitting _at all_ for a month. You got _that_?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh as he made a sharp right, narrowly avoiding the kryepar's claws for a second time. Although in this instance he agreed with Desert- Sammy should've taken the shot with the taser- he couldn't help but think that Sam really had a way with words. Especially considering, that if Sam and Desert ever ended up going one-on-one in a fight, despite Sam's serious advantage in height and age, Dean had a feeling his brother would definitely come out on the losing end.

Beside him, Willet also laughed and then called out to the debating hunters, "I hate to break up the cock fight you two assholes have going on over there, but we could use a little help here!"

Dean grinned, despite the pain in his back, and turned to his running partner. "On the count of three, we split."

Willet nodded and then with rapid succession, he fired off the numbers, "One, two, three."

Dean rolled his eyes at the man's speedy counting and spun quickly to the left. The kryepar couldn't follow both and fortunately for Dean, it chose to follow Will. With a sigh of relief, Dean jogged over to his brother.

Immediately Sam turned him around and pulled up his shirt to look at the gashes, "Are you okay?"

Despite Sam's soft, relaxing touch, the attention to his back brought the pain from the kryepar's slice to the surface and Dean found himself growing angry. If Sam hadn't ruined Desert's shot, the kryepar would be dead and his back would be without pain.

Brushing his brother's gentle hands off his back, Dean turned around. "What the hell's wrong with you, man? Why'd the hell you ruin his shot? What?! You like watching me get sliced open?"

Sam stepped back, a guilty, yet unremorseful look on his face. "You were right there, Dean. The wires could've hit you. He just as easily could've waited for a clean shot."

Dean shook his head. "It wouldn't have hit me, dude. Desert's a good shot- so are you for that matter. You could've shot it without hitting me."

Considering the conversation over with, Dean moved to help Willet. However, before he could go far, Sam spun him around. "It wasn't worth the risk Dean. You could've been electrocuted. I'm not…" Sam shook his head trying to find the right words. Then he met Dean's eyes, "I've already been there. It's not happening again. I can't."

Dean took in a deep breath. There really was no arguing with that. Sam didn't want to relive his electrocution. Dean nodded and tapped his brother's arm. "Okay, we'll wait for a clean shot." Really, what was he going to say?

Sam sighed, relieved, and both brother's drew their attention to the kryepar and the other hunters. Willet seemed to have a decent lead on the creature, but it was clear from his expression that he was tiring. Dean called over to Will's long-time hunting partner. "Yo!"

When Desert turned, Dean threw him his taser. The man caught it and nodded. Then, he yelled to his friend. "Will! Drop!"

Matching Dean's previous movements, Willet dropped to the floor as Desert fired the taser. This time the shot was unobstructed, however, once again, it did not meet its mark. Apparently, the beast learned from experience and back-peddled out of range as soon as he heard the word 'drop'.

Willet rolled over and looked behind him. "Freakin' intelligent piece of shit!" He got up and ran towards the brothers. Once he had joined them, he leaned his arms on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "We couldn't be hunting a rawhead? At least those mofos are dumb as hell…"

Desert walked back to the others while keeping his eye on the now still kryepar. "We ain't huntin' a rawhead. It's a kryepar. These suckers learn fast."

Willet nodded and Desert turned a patronizing scowl over to Sam. "See that Sammy. I said 'drop,' Will dropped, I fired, and he lived. See how it works?"

Sam narrowed his eyes and then smirked. "Funny. All I saw was you waste another shot. Now we only have one left."

Sam held the other hunter's stare until Desert growled something under his breath and turned away. Willet laughed as he straightened up. "Thanks Sammy. It's not too often I get to see someone get the best of him. That was good."

Sam gave a small smile and Willet continued, "He was right though. You shouldn't have screwed his shot before. You could've gotten your brother killed. If you have a shot with the taser- so long as Dean's not in the direct line of fire- you should take it."

Dean watched his brother's head go down in what looked like either embarrassment or shame. Dean shook his head, while he agreed with the two elder hunters, he also understood where Sam was coming from. Sometimes the right thing's not always the right thing.

Reaching over, Dean hit his brother's arm. Sam turned to look at him and Dean stared back. He didn't need to say anything- Sam would get it. If Sam wasn't comfortable taking a shot around Dean, that was okay. Dean spoke through his expression- Sam had nothing to be ashamed of.

Sam's face seemed to lighten in response to his brother's look. Apparently, as long as Dean thought it was okay, then it was okay.

Dean nodded, now that that was over with- back to the problem at hand. "Alright Sammy. Yours is the only taser left. How do you want to do this?"

Before Sam could open his mouth, Desert interrupted him. "I'll tell you what we're gonna do…" He pointed to Sam. "You-"

"Hey!" With a voice filled with unwavering authority, Dean cut the other hunter off. "It's _Sam's_ shot. You do this _his_ way or you leave."

For a moment, all the hunters stared waiting for the response. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, Desert crossed his arms and turned away. "Fine. _Sammy's _way it is. Try not to make it suck _Sammy_."

Sam glared at the man. "Is your name Dean?" When the hunter turned back around, Sam nodded, "Then don't call me Sammy."

Dean snorted. "I don't think that kryepar's gonna sit around all day waiting for us to come up with a plan here. What're we doin', dude?"

The kryepar was standing still at the far end of the abandoned warehouse, sizing up the hunters in the same manner that they were assessing _it_. Sam kept his eyes on the creature as he relayed his plan. "Okay, we know it likes to chase. One of us will get it to chase and lead it towards the taser. Instead of dropping, we'll have a sign and at the last minute, whoever it's chasing will make a sharp left and then we'll fire."

Dean took a breath. "Okay. Sounds good. I'll get it to chase me, you be ready with the taser."

Sam nodded and readied the taser. "Right." Then he turned to the remaining hunters. "Can you guys cover him with the shotguns?"

Both men nodded. Then Desert turned to Sam, a softer look on his hardened face. "You're gonna discharge this time right? You're our last shot. It's all on you kid."

It was meant to be kind and Sam took it as such. He held up his right hand. "Scouts honor…you got his back?"

Desert smiled, racked his shotgun, and nodded. Despite their arguments over when to fire the taser, all four hunters had been grown to truly respect each other over the past week. And on more than one occasion, both Willet and Desert had saved the brothers' lives.

Now that everyone knew their roles, Dean took in a breath and began running toward the kryepar. It didn't take long to coerce the beast into chase. When he was still about 10 feet (3 m) away, the creature growled and sprang forward. Immediately, Dean did a 180 and slid on the floor as he tried to regain his balance that he had lost on the turn. Luckily, his feet managed to find the floor again fairly quickly and the older Winchester found himself, once again, being chased by the kryepar.

He was running toward Sam now, and Dean kept the eye-contact steady with his brother, waiting for the signal that he should turn. Finally, Sam gave an almost imperceptible nod. Dean caught it and growled as he made a sharp left, taking himself out of the line of fire. Behind him, he heard Sam fire the taser and the creature's loud footsteps ceased. Panting, Dean spun around to check the kryepar's status.

Sam's taser had indeed discharged, and the monster was lying still on the ground. Dean watched as his brother stood on his toes, five feet away from the downed monster, apparently trying to see the its face without actually going near it. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Sam."

Sam turned at his brother's voice and Dean looked at him, exasperated. "You can't tell if it's dead from there."

Sam shook his head. "I don't think it _is_ dead. It looks like it's still breathing."

Dean's eyes moved back to the kryepar. "Then why's it down?"

Desert spoke up. "It's probably just an illusion, Sam. I saw the taser hit it. It's dead."

Sam disagreed. "I think it's faking."

Dean gave a humorless laugh. "Right." Of course it would be faking…

This time Willet spoke. "I'm with Desert. The thing's dead. But if you want to be safe about it…Sam you go from the left, I'll go from the right, this way, if it isn't dead, it'll only be able to get one of us."

Sam nodded and began making his way toward the kryepar. Up close the thing smelled- bad. Willet grinned at him over the creature. "Smells like someone took a skunk, pissed on it, and then threw it into a fire of burning hair."

Sam made a face- that was exactly what it smelled like.

A yell from desert interrupted their lamentations about the smell. "Will you two chicks stop complaining about the smell and check the damn thing already?"

Both Sam and Willet looked over at their friend, and smiled. Without warning, the kryepar sprung up, threw both Sam and Will into the wall. So much for it being able to only get one of them…

Dean watched, shocked, as his brother flew 20 feet (6 m) through the air and hit the far wall of the warehouse, landing inside what looked like a metal cage. Panic rocketed through his body, but Dean had no time to check on Sam. With Sam and Willet out of the way, the creature had its eyes set on him.

Dean groaned as he realized that all the tasers had now been used and there'd be no easy way to fry the kryepar. "Shit."

The kryepar made a move, and Dean took off running in the other direction. His worries still with Sam, Dean called out to check on his brother. "Sammy?"

For a moment, the only thing heard in the warehouse were Dean's breathing and the creature's footsteps. Then, Dean got a response, although not from whom he would have hoped. It was Desert's voice that answered him. "Looks like he's stunned, Dean. Probably hit his head on the consol in the cage."

Dean ducked, sliding under a forklift, and then turned so that he was running toward his brother. Sure enough, Sam was lying on his side, his back to what looked like an electrical consol. From his distance, Dean was unable to tell if Sam's eyes were open. He yelled again while cutting to the left. "How's Willet?"

Once again, Desert responded. "He's good."

Dean turned again, and began running toward the two elder hunters. It seemed that Willet had also landed in a small cage, although a different one from Sam. While Sam's cage protected the electrical consol, Willet's appeared to protect the boiler. In front of him, Dean saw Willet pushing against the bars of the cage. The elder man responded through gritted teeth. "I don't know about good…" He threw his body into the cage- it didn't even rattle. "Shit!" He sighed and looked at Dean with an annoyed expression. "When it threw me in, the door slammed shut. Now I'm stuck here."

Dean nodded; it was probably the same with Sam. At least there he'd be safe from the creature, even he was trapped in a cage. Dean made a quick right and ducked as one of the kryepar's claws sailed over his head. Behind him, he heard the creature growl in irritation.

Dean called back to the other hunters. "Yo! How we gonna kill this thing?"

There was a grunt from Willet- apparently still trying to break out of his cell- and then an answer. "Uh…hang on…"

Dean rolled his eyes. The running was tiring him out. He was running in circles, top speed, through an abandoned warehouse with a kryepar on his heels, swiping at his head. And they wanted him to hang on… Mimicking a move from football, Dean piveted his body to the right before quickly changing direction and cutting to the left. With a roar, the monster tried to copy the sudden motion and ended up falling and sliding across the floor. Immediately recognize the chance for a respite, Dean ceased his running and leaned against a nearby pile of short pipes, trying to catch his breath. "Guys…any…day now…"

Looking over, he saw Willet nod and point his hand out through the cage. There's a lot of wires and what looks like a fuse box on that wall. If you can get it near there and then cut the wires, there might be enough electrical output to fry it."

Checking his shotgun, Desert shook his head. "Not unless Sammy…" He glared over at Dean. "…I mean _Sam…_can turn the electricity on first."

Dean's eyes immediately moved back to his brother. Sam had moved and was now on his hands and knees, swaying slightly. Although he was clearly conscious, it was also clear that his brain wasn't working at its full potential.

A roar from his left shifted Dean's attention back to the kryepar, who was once again charging him. Dean rolled his eyes and whined under his breath. "Not this again…" Didn't the beast ever get tired?

Just as Dean was about to resume running, a shotgun blast knocked the creature off its feet. Dean turned toward Desert as the man shouted at him. "I'll keep stinkweed busy. You get your brother to turn on the electric."

Dean nodded in understanding and thanks and ran over to his brother's cage. Sam was still on all fours. "Sammy?"

Sam turned his head toward Dean's voice, but the movement seemed to jar his balance and when his head turned to the left, he fell to the right. Dean cringed as he watched his brother fall over.

Not willing to stand by while Sam needed help, Dean pulled on the rusted metal bars of the cage door. As with Willet, the door wouldn't move- didn't even rattle. Sam was stuck. Dean sighed…one problem at a time.

Seeing Sam looking up at him with unfocused eyes, Dean tried to coax his brother back to full awareness. "Sam? Come on, man. Pull it together. We need your help."

Dean watched the determination enter his brother's expression as Sam nodded. Then, slowly, and very unsteadily, Sam managed to push himself up to a kneeling position. Once he was kneeling, Sam looked back up at Dean and Dean saw his brother's face loose all its color. Sam swayed, and before Dean could react, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the side.

With a frustrated yell, Dean grabbed the rusted metal again and shook the cage with all his might. Once again, nothing moved.

Will's voice sounded from his right, "Uh…I hate to rush you guys, but Des ain't exactly quick on his feet."

There was another shotgun blast, originating from Willet's cage and Dean turned around to see Desert doubled over, out of breath, and bleeding with the kryepar on its back twenty feet (6 m) behind him. Dean shifted his attention back toward his brother. "Sam!"

Sam's body jerked at the sound and blearily his eyes opened. Dean barely gave his brother time to regain his bearings. "Sam! Wake up! We need your help."

Once again, Sam's face took on a determined look and he began pushing himself onto all fours. Dean spoke as Sam clumsily moved his body. "You need to open the consol above your head and flip the main power switch."

Sam nodded, closed his eyes, and pulled himself up the consol. Even from his position on the other side of the bars, Dean could see the sweat glistening on his brother's skin. With fumbling fingers, Sam opened the door to the consol and stared. Dean pointed through the bars. "There Sam. On your left. The big black lever."

Sam moved to the left and began pushing the large lever up. It seemed that he had to use his whole body to do it, but after a few seconds, the lever clicked into the 'on' position and a low humming noise filled the warehouse. Then, slowly but steadily, all the overhead lights began turning on, illuminating the human and creature who seemed to be playing tag in the middle of the floor.

With the switch now on, Sam slumped back down to the ground and Dean turned his focus back to the kryepar. Moving himself in range of the wires along the wall, Dean readied his knife. "Desert! I'm ready. Do your thing, man."

The considerably exhausted hunter merely waved Dean off as he ran past. A few seconds later, when the kryepar was directly in front of the wires, Will shouted, "Des drop!"

The heavyset hunter hit the ground and a shotgun blast echoed through the warehouse. The kryepar was sent flying off its feet and straight into the wires on the wall. Immediately, Dean threw his knife into the largest wire, directly at the point where it met the fuse box and the creature's head. Sparks went flying in all directions and the kryepar's body left the ground as it shook with the electrical current.

Dean stepped back in relief. There were more than enough volts going through the monster to fry it now. Then without warning, the creature spoke with a hissing, electrified voice. "You think that was smart? At least I won't die here alone."

Before Dean could even process the fact that the kryepar had spoken, much less what it had said, the beast exploded, sending its sticky, stinking, an now flaming guts all over the warehouse. Although the tiny firebombs that had hit the floor didn't seem to catch, those that hit the walls and the asbestos ceiling were a different story. Within seconds, nearly half of the warehouse was covered in flames.

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_Review... please?_ _ And I promise, the second part is full of angst!_


	2. Chapter 2

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_Okay, here's part two. Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews! I appreciate each one so, so much. Thank you!_

_ And to ym no-reply reviewers:_

_**Spuffyshipper: **Thanks! I'm glad you're happy with a new story. Sam doesn't hate the other hunters, actually he respects them very much. They were just arguing a lot. :0)_

_**Brokenwind: **I do not take long to update! I update every other day! Hmph. :0P Well, anyway, I'm glad you liked the first chapter, hopefully you'll like the second too._

_**Nessie:** You want more? Here you go! Thanks so much for the review!_

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For a moment Dean only stood, watching the flames as they slowly ate their way across the ceiling and the walls. Then, his brain seemed to process the implications of their travel. Turning on his heel, Dean ran full speed to his brother's cage. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Desert already assisting Willet with his own entrapment. 

Sam, for his part seemed to have processed the fire's meaning despite his injury and was already examining his cell for a weakness. Upon approaching his destination, Dean threw his body into the cage door full speed and watched his brother wince in sympathy as his body bounced off the door and onto the floor.

Sam shook his head from his own seat on the floor, "That wasn't bright, Dean."

Dean flipped up his middle finger and then shakily stood back up. A series of gunshots sounded and Dean turned to his right to watch Desert empty his clip into the lock of Willet's cell. After his pistol had been emptied, the older man also attacked the lock with the remaining shots in his shotgun. Pulling out his own pistol, Dean mimicked the older hunter's actions.

"Dean wait!"

The rest of Sam's sentence was drowned out by the sound of rapid fire coming from Dean's handgun. After the clip was gone, Dean squinted at the now dented metal and brought up his shotgun.

"Dean, will you wait a second!"

Ignoring his brother, he had no time for Sam's cautions and hesitations- the fire was coming, Dean fired two shots into the metal. Behind the door, Dean watched Sam roll his eyes in exasperation.

Throwing down the shotgun, Dean aimed a full-powered kick at the mutilated lock…and once again found himself on his ass. The door hadn't moved. Through squinted eyes, Dean sent the lock a deadly glare.

"Dean."

Sam's voice was weaker than it had been seconds ago and turning to his brother, Dean was reminded that Sam was injured. Even with the in-coming fire casting a red hue over everything, Sam looked extremely pale. His head was leaning against his knees. Dean stared through the bars at his brother.

"Dean. You should've waited. It didn't work when Desert tried it. You didn't need to waste the bullets."

Dean looked over at the other hunters who were taking turns attacking the cage door with their bodies. Then he looked back up at the lock. It was significantly dented, but apparently, that hadn't been enough to bust it open.

Behind him, an explosion rocketed through the warehouse sending it's vibrations through the floor and up into Dean's body. Seconds later, a blast of heat, smoke, and debris covered him. Wiping the grime from his eyes, Dean turned around and felt the adrenaline begin a renewed course through his veins- several pipes and part of the ceiling had collapsed on the other side of the warehouse. Looking up, he saw the flames continue to flow, greedily feeding on the asbestos that lined the upper limit of the room.

Dean jumped as he felt a hand touch his own. It was Sam, reaching out through the bars. "Dean."

Dean looked down at his brother's hand and allowed his eyes to follow Sam's arm, back up to his shoulder and then his face. "Dean, this whole place is gonna come down."

Dean's brows drew together in anger, "You think I don't know that, Sam?"

Sam showed no reaction to his brother's anger, instead only staring at Dean with a face full of compassion…Dean growled- he hated that look.

"Dean, the asbestos is like pure fuel for the fire. It's spreading fast…and hot."

Dean shook his brother's hand off and watched as the action threw off his brother's balance and sent him falling into the bars. "Damnit Sam! I know!"

Dean stood and Sam looked up at him from his position on the ground. "You have to get out of here."

Rage roughly coursed its way through Dean's veins. Barely controlling it, he pointed down at his sibling. "I'm gonna say this once. Don't _ever_ say that again. The only way I go is if you're with me." Dean continued to stare Sam down, his eyes burning the message into Sam's brain. It wasn't a sacrifice- it was a fact. One of those 'if…then' statements he learned in high school math class. _If _Sam was with him, _then _Dean would leave. _ If _Sam was _not_ with him, _then _Dean would _not_ leave. An off-topic thought passed through Dean's head as he made a note to find Ms. Jalce and apologize to her; turns out he _had_ used that in real life.

Dean's death stare seemed to drive his point home and Sam slumped down to the floor upon losing the battle. Sam's collapse seemed to vacuum the anger out of Dean and cause his protector mode to kick in. Quickly, he bent down to reassure his brother.

Reaching between the bars, Dean grabbed his Sam's shoulder, "Hey Sammy. I've got no plans to die today, okay? But I meant what I said: I only leave with you…" Dean stood up and began pushing against the cage door. "…So, looks like you'll just have get your ass out of here. Of course, that's only if you want me to live…"

Sam smiled, "Well, maybe I'll just stay here then. I think I could probably get a good tan in here anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes and checked to see how the other hunters were faring, hoping that they would've found a way out that he could replicate for Sam. Unfortunately, it seemed that the other pair was doing no better than he and Sam.

Another explosion blasted through the warehouse and Dean found himself pushing against the bars as far as he could manage. A giant pipe had fallen from the ceiling not three feet (1 m) behind him. He winced as he felt several flaming shards hit his already bloodied back.

"Dean!"

Dean shut his eyes in pain, waiting for the pipe to inevitably continue its roll into his body. Fortunately, the pipe seemed to remain where it landed and pieces of hot shrapnel didn't catch on his back. Slowly, Dean opened his eyes, only to find himself face to face with a pale, sweaty, yet standing, Sam.

Sam's arms were through the bars, his hands clutching fiercely into Dean's arms. Dean nodded at his brother's frightened eyes, "I'm okay."

Sam swallowed as tears entered his eyes, "You know how close that came to killing you?"

Dean tried to shake Sam's hands off, but their grip was too tight. Taking a breath, Dean tried to assure his brother, "Sam. I'm fine. But you need to let go of me, man. This place ain't gonna hold much longer. We need to get you out."

Sam loosened his grip, but didn't let go. "Don't make me watch you die, Dean. I'd rather die alone than watch you die in front of me."

This time Dean succeeded in removing his brother's hands, "Yeah, well, you've got your hang ups, I got mine. Luckily for me, _you're_ the one in the cage right now, so _I_ get to make the decisions."

Dean bent down and picked up his shotgun as Sam shook his head and wearily sunk down to the ground. "I hate you."

Dean laughed, "I know- back at ya."

Sam looked up and used his eyes to change the entire meaning of that exchange into its literal opposite. Dean stared back. Then, with a determined look, he ran to the other side of the downed pipe and, using the shotgun, pushed the pipe toward the cage wall. For his part, Sam watched Dean's actions, leaning his head against the bars.

It wasn't easy to move the pipe, especially considering its size, however, after about a minute of work, Dean managed to get the pipe to the bars. Wiping his brow, Dean looked down at his brother. "The metal on this pipe's as thick as those bars. If we can get them hot enough, we might be able to separate them enough for you to squeeze through."

Sam gave no response and Dean moved around the cage get a better look at his brother. Sure enough, Sam's eyes were closed. Dean slammed on the cage. "Sam!"

But Sam remained still.

Another boom ripped through the area, followed by another blast of heat, and several yells from the other cage. Apparently, another pipe had fallen, this one a near miss for Desert. Dean looked up and noted with serious dread that the ceiling covering his half of the warehouse was completely engulfed and hanging half-way down. Dean shook his head and coughed at the smoke. There was no way the bars would heat up fast enough…

More yelling came from the other hunters as Willet screamed at Desert through the bars of his cage. "You can't leave me here! I can't get out!"

Desert pointed up at the ceiling. "You want us both to die? I don't know how to get you out. I tried everything I could think of. There comes a time when a man's got to think of himself. Don't act like I didn't try. You think leavin' you is easy for me?"

Willet shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. Dean watched as the betrayal turned to acceptance in the hunter's eyes. Willet turned back to his friend. "No hard feelings. It was a good time- the past twenty years…"

Desert nodded solemnly. "You still got some time. Work on a way out."

Will nodded back and Desert turned to Dean. "Dean! Let's go!"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not going."

Desert pointed to the creaking ceiling. "Dean, there's no time! Even if you could get him out, it'd take too long. You'll both just die."

Angered that the man would even debate this with him, Dean yelled back. "Then we both die!"

Throwing up his hands at the younger man's stubbornness, Desert ran out the door.

Sam was now lying on his side on the floor, the last explosion having knocked him over. Avoiding the burning metal pipe, Dean cautiously worked his way over to as close to his brother as he could get. The air was now thick with smoke and heat, and Dean pulled his t-shirt up over his mouth and nose, wincing as it pulled at the dried blood on his back.

Now close enough to Sam to touch him, Dean reached through the bars and pulled on his brother until Sam flopped, his head lolling as he fell onto his back. Then he tapped on Sam's face. There was no response.

The ceiling gave a whining sound as it sagged even more. Dean brushed the sweat off his face as he struggled to breathe through his shirt and the smoke. Willet's voice sounded over the roaring fire. "Dean!"

Dean turned, wincing as a blast of heat hit his eyes. Willet yelled through the bars of his cage. "The door's right there." He pointed to the open door that lay only a few feet away. "There's no time anymore."

Dean shook his head and Willet continued. "He won't even know, Dean. He's completely out."

Dean stood up and began walking around the cage, studying its structure. He wasn't wasting any more time on that conversation. The top of the cage met the ceiling, which was probably the only reason it hadn't collapsed yet- the cages gave it extra support. Dean checked the area by the heated pipe. Although the bars seemed to have a red tint to them, he doubted that they were hot enough to bend. Just to test it though, Dean picked up the discarded shotgun and positioned it between two of the bars. Then, using the shotgun as a lever, he pushed towards the cage. Not surprisingly, nothing happened. Frustrated, Dean threw the shotgun to the floor and leaned his head against the cage.

Tears were flowing from his eyes, although it was honestly more from the smoke and the burning heat than the situation. But the hopelessness didn't help. The flames completely surrounded them now: above, and on all sides. He should've known he'd end up dying in a fire. It just sucked that Sam was on the other side of a set of bars.

Fully accepting now that they were going to die, Dean carefully made his way back through the inferno, to his brother's side. The door to their safety, not five feet away, stared at him. He could see the blue skies, green hill, and cement path that was safe from the fire. He only had to stand up and walk the five feet…and he'd live.

Putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, Dean turned to the other cage. Willet was staring at him, shaking his head. "You're stupid. You dying isn't going to help Sam. You think he wants this? Or are you just killing yourself because you don't want to live through the pain of his death? Because the door's five feet away and you _know_ there's no way out for Sam. So just admit what you're doing…you're committing suicide."

The words struck a chord in Dean and he found himself in a dilemma. Willet was right. To sit there and just wait for death wouldn't help Sam. Then he'd just be killing himself. But he couldn't leave without Sam either.

Dean laughed to himself, "Let's see…if Sam can't get out, then I can't leave. If I live, then I must leave. I can't not live. Therefore…Sam must get out." Dean nodded his head, happy with his conclusion. He seriously was going to need to send Ms. Jalce that apology along with a thank you note.

Suddenly, Sam groaned and moved his head. Dean leaned into the bars, "Sammy?"

Sam turned his body away from his brother and began coughing. Apparently the smoke had seeped into his unconsciousness. Not wanting to waste any time, Dean moved to get up, and yet again try attacking the cage. Without warning Sam's hand grabbed his arm. Dean looked back down as Sam rolled over still choking. He pointed to an area behind the boiler. "There's…a…metal…plate….instead of bars." Sam turned back on his side as he continued to cough.

Moving over to the side of the cage near the door, directly across from where Sam had pointed, Dean spied the three foot (1 m) by two foot (.6 m) metal plate at the bottom of the cage wall, behind the boiler. If he could get that plate off, Sam would be able to fit through that space.

The ceiling creaked, whined and sagged again and Dean ducked in preparation of his death. But, somehow the ceiling held and Dean quickly ran to his brother. Not even bothering to talk to Sam, he reached through the bars, lifted Sam's shirt, and pulled his gun out of the back of his pants. Then grabbed his brother's shotgun and took both guns to the other side of the cage.

He emptied the pistol first, firing the bullets at the screws that held the plate in place. Then he took the shotgun and fired two holes through the middle of the metal. The handgun hadn't done much, but the shotgun had. The metal was warped, and sharp, and pointing inwards, but if Sam didn't mind getting cut up a little, he'd definitely fit through the hole. With his foot, Dean molded as much of the pointy metal down as he could. The bigger the hole, the better.

There was a decent shot now that they'd live, and Dean was determined that it would happen. They _couldn't_ die now. Not now that they had a possibility to escape.

"Sam!" Dean called over to his brother, and saw a red, teary eye peek over at him.

"Sam, get your ass over here. We've got seconds!"

Sam's body responded to the command and Dean watched with little patience as Sam slowly commando crawled across the dusty, smoky floor. Across the way, in the other cage, Dean saw and heard Willet fire his own shotgun into the metal plate in his cage. Considering that both metal plates were obstructed from view due to their placement, it wasn't surprising that no one had noticed the plate when first inspecting the cage. It was only Sam's odd, semi conscious position that gave him the right angle to see the plate.

Sam was now close enough to touch and Dean wasted no time thrusting his hands through the bars and dragging his brother up to the hole. It'd be a tight fit, but it would have to work.

Without waiting for Sam, Dean reached into the hole, grabbed his brother's shoulders, and began pulling. The metal at the hole's edge cut into Sam's back, chest, and arms, but Dean kept heaving. There was no time to reposition. They'd deal with the cuts later.

For his part, Sam didn't struggle, only wincing now and then as the metal cut particularly deep. By the time his upper body was out, Dean had his arms through Sam's armpits and over his chest. So when the plate snagged the waist of Sam's jeans, there was barely even a pause before they ripped under Dean's pull. It took about thirty seconds, but soon Sam was free of the cage and draped over his brother's shoulders.

Somewhere he heard Sam mumble something about being able to walk, which he probably could have, but it would have been a slow and unsteady walk, and there was no time for that.

As he ran towards the door, Dean checked on Willet. Although he had been able to blast a fairly large hole in the plate, he didn't have enough force or leverage to pull himself past the sharp metal. Currently, the man was stuck, one arm, shoulder, and head out of the cage, the rest of his body still in. Dean pulled his shirt down off his nose and called over to the older man. "Will!"

Will turned his head as best he could and Dean nodded to the door. "As soon as I get Sam out, I'll come back and help."

Will made no response, but his eyes didn't hold much hope. Dean turned and ran out of the warehouse, not stopping until he had carried his brother half way up the hill. Placing Sam on the ground, Dean turned and began the run back to the warehouse. He made it about five feet before the building collapsed.

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He slid a little bit. The grass was wet and the ground shook, so he slid. A large cloud of dust and smoke billowed straight up into the air where it hovered before being pushed along by the wind. The wind was behind them, and that was a good thing, otherwise the smoke would've blown right in their faces.

Dean jumped as a bloody hand touched his arm. Sam's face was black with soot and now that he was in the sunlight, he could see the two-inch, bruised bump by his brother's temple. Sam's eyes looked scared…and sad. Dean turned his attention back to the smoking, collapsed warehouse. Willet was dead.

Not ten minutes ago the man had saved his life. Not one minute ago, Dean had promised to return the favor. But it was too late- he had been too late. Sam squeezed his arm. No, he took it back, he had just made it- just not for Will.

A movement at the side of the warehouse caught his eye, and Dean looked down the hill. Desert was standing at the bottom, by the warehouse. The older man held a somber look and even from his distance 300 yards (275 m) away, he could feel the pain of loss rolling off the man in waves.

Desert's eyes shifted from the warehouse to the hill and the man's expression changed from grief to shock and despair. At first Dean thought the hunter was looking at him, but then he realized that his eyes stared at the figure next to him. He was looking at Sam. Dean closed his own eyes, unable to watch the man's guilt and desolation. Sam was a living representation that Desert had made the wrong decision.

Only hindsight made it wrong. At the time, it clearly had been the right thing to do. There was no way out of the cages. If Desert had stayed, it would've been suicide. From a survival point of view, he _should_ have left. But Sam was sitting on the hill- alive. Desert had done the right thing, even Willet agreed. Hell, even he and Sam agreed. But sometimes, the right thing isn't always the right thing.

There was a moment in that warehouse, when Sam was unconscious and Dean stared at the open door that held his freedom, that Dean _very_ briefly considered leaving. It was only, as Willet pointed out, his fear of the pain of Sam's loss that kept him in there. That- and the fact that he could never live with himself or the guilt if he had left his brother.

When he and Desert had first started trying to free Sam and Willet, they both stayed in the inferno because they believed they _could _save their partners. Dean realized, he and Desert _lost _that faith at the same time, which was when Desert left. Dean hadn't stayed because he believed that he could save Sam, he stayed because he was tied to Sam. Their lives were tied together. They were a family, and losing Sam scared Dean more than staying in the collapsing building.

Dean opened his eyes in time to watch Desert turn and walk out of view, behind the burning building. Sam's hand still gripped his arm, and Dean brought his own hand up to lay over his brother's for a moment, before bringing it back down.

He thought back to the earlier incident in the warehouse with the taser. If Sam had used the taser, or not screwed Desert's shot, they would have figured out earlier that the volts in the tasers weren't enough to take down the kryepar. Would it have made a difference in the end? Dean had no idea, but either way, looking back, it seemed that Sam hadn't done the right thing. Although he did what he thought was best at the time- just as Desert had.

The difference between Sam's and Dean's decisions versus Des' and Will's decisions really came down to one thing: love. There were risks that Sam and Dean were either willing or unwilling to take, despite what the job or common sense might dictate, because they cared about each other and were unwilling to lose each other. Did it make them better hunters? Or worse? Dean really didn't know.

"Your back looks really bad, Dean. There's two pieces of metal sticking out of it. I don't think they're in deep, but they look rusted."

Great, a tetnus shot. Dean turned toward Sam and brushed back his brother's hair to get a look at the bump. The skin was shiny, having been stretched over the swollen lump in the area. Already the bruise had formed and turned a dark shade of purple. Sam winced and jerked his head back as Dean probed the area.

Finally, Dean ceased his prodding and moved his hand to hold Sam's face steady as he checked his eyes. The right pupil, accompanying the side of his head with the bump, was fully dialated. The left pupil clearly was not. Dean released his brother's head and sat back. "You got a bad concussion and I don't like where that bump is."

Sam leaned his head into his knees, shielding his eyes from the sunlight. "I didn't have a choice about it."

Dean nodded and winced. Now that the adrenaline was leaving his bloodstream, his back was killing him.

"Dean?"

Dean looked over to find Sam still doubled over, but now squinting up at him. He waited a few moments for Sam to continue, but Sam just seemed to stare instead. Dean tried to prompt him. "What Sam?"

Sam appeared confused. "I forgot."

Dean laughed. "Okay, we both need a hospital."

Sam shook his head, his expression turning frightened. "Dean I'm losing…"

Sam's look made more sense than his words and Dean put both hands on his brother's arms before meeting Sam's eyes and speaking calmly. "Losing what, dude?"

Sam breathed out, relieved, and shook his head. "I'm…I couldn't remember anything for a sec. Nothing. It's back."

Dean nodded and pulled Sam up. "Hospital. Now."

Once they were standing, Dean gave his brother a moment to adjust to the change in altitude. Sam wobbled unsteadily and leaned into his sibling and Dean maintained a tight grip. Sam was probably dizzy to begin with and considering that they were on a hill, Dean didn't need his brother rolling down it into the fire.

When Sam was ready, he picked his head up. "Newuqueow?"

Dean shook his head, amused and concerned at Sam's slurred speech. "Do I know a cow? What?"

Sam apparently maintained enough awareness to know that his question made no sense as his expression became frustrated. "How…did…you…know…you could…get me…out?"

"Oh." I didn't; I just figured it was better to die with you. Shaking away those thoughts, Dean threw on his reassuring bravado. "What are you kidding? I told you Sammy. I ain't dyin' today. There was no other option. I had to get you out. It's all logic, man." He gave his brother a light tap. "You need to have more faith in me."

Sam smiled and turned toward the burning building, keeping a tight grip on his brother for balance. "I really though I was going to die in there."

Dean slowly walked his brother diagonally down the hill, toward the parked cars. "Like I said, dude. You need more faith."

Sam scoffed and then grabbed his brother's shirt as he almost slipped down the hill. Dean bent over and tightened his own grip, pulling Sam back onto his feet. Sam was breathing hard. "I got you."

Sam nodded, keeping his head down, his bangs flopping in his face. "Thanks."

Dean nodded.

Slowly the brothers continued down the wet grassy hill. Dean couldn't help but be thankful that it had been raining the past three weeks. Because it had, the ground was wet enough to stop the fire from spreading.

"Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Hopefully Sam would remember what he wanted to say this time.

"You think…I mean, there's no chance…"

Dean interrupted, he knew what Sam was asking. "Sam, the ceiling fell on him. Chances are the weight killed him instantly…not to mention the fire. He's gone, man."

Sam nodded sadly. "He saved our lives- multiple times. They both did."

Dean silently agreed as he continued their unsteady walk. Finally, after several close calls, the brothers made it back to the Impala- without having lost their footing. Dean leaned his brother against the car and groaned as he bent to open the passenger door. Sitting was going to be a nightmare on his back. Not to mention, with the metal in there, he wouldn't be able to sit back.

When he straightened, Sam was looking at the other car in the area. "He's still here."

Dean shook his head. "Of course he's still here. He's gotta wait so he can get Willet's bo…uh, Willet, back from the fire inspector. And the only way he's gonna know where Will ends up is if he's here when they take him."

As if on cue, sirens sounded in the distance. Dean pushed his brother into the passenger seat and then ran around to the driver's side. Hopping in, he ignored the screaming pain in his back, turned the key, and began driving- away from the sirens. It would be a longer way to the hospital, but they couldn't be seen leaving the blazing inferno.

After several minutes, Dean felt himself relax marginally as the sirens, fire, and smoke melted into the background.

Sam's voice intruded on the momentary peace. "Hey."

Dean briefly turned to look over at his brother before turning back to the road and Sam continued, "If Des had been thrown in the cage instead of me, you think we would've stayed until we got them out?"

He really didn't want to go there…the decisions they all made today had already spent too much time under the microscope- no need to add hypothetical decisions. Although, Sam brought up a good point. Would he have stayed if it wasn't Sam? If he was alone, he would like to think, definitely, he would've stayed. Hell, he always said that he wanted to be a firefighter- and he was fully prepared to run back in for Will (of course, Will had a definite way out by then).

But if Sam was also in the warehouse with him…that changed things. Another case where his decision about 'the right thing to do' would change based on his concern for Sam. _He_ had no problem staying, but if _Sam_ was there, and the ceiling was collapsing and it looked like there was no way out? And an uninjured Sam wouldn't have waited outside while Dean stayed back to help those who were trapped…

Dean shook his head- he so was not going down that road. No hypothetical decisions. Without answering his brother, Dean turned on the radio, cranking up the hard rock. Beside him, he watched Sam sit back with a resigned expression. Obviously he realized Dean wasn't willing to talk.

A blue sign for the hospital appeared, and Dean turned right accordingly. Sam had pulled a first aid kit out from under his seat and was cleaning out the gashes in his stomach, made when Dean pulled him out of the hole in the metal plate.

Whether choosing to stay in the warehouse had been right or wrong, Dean didn't care. Today, under those circumstances, he had done the right thing. And as long as Sam was sitting next to him- the judgmental, analytical, critical people of the world could kiss his ass.

* * *

_**This fic is dedicated to all the firefighters out there that continuously ignore their survival instincts and run toward the danger when someone they don't know needs help. To all you men and women (especially Danny, Jay, and Anthony)- thanks.**_


End file.
